


Artista and the Count II: New Life, New York

by WinterMagnets



Category: Da Vinci's Demons
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, Past Lives, Reincarnation, Slash, still haunting me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-15
Updated: 2017-06-28
Packaged: 2018-11-14 14:10:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11209689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinterMagnets/pseuds/WinterMagnets
Summary: Leo and Riario are back. This time they are in New York, in the 60s. It's the time of music, night bars and opioids.





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> My friend read the original story I wrote and she loved it. She asked me if there are more stories, more lives. I said, of course there are. And then I hit a MAJOR dry spell. No words, no stores for over a year. Finally, the boys are back, and this time, who knows what might happen. Hope you enjoy.

“New life, new city, old me,” Leo thinks as he takes the same route to work as every day. He takes the subway from his apartment and then he walks through the park. He looks at the large carved door of the church opposite his store, wonders at the artist who made those carvings and crosses the street. He opens the record store and spends the rest of his day listening to music and talking to the customers.  
It starts to rain heavy that day just after lunch. He is usually happy when it rains because that means less customers. People are less likely to walk around in the rain. This then leaves him with more time for his drawings. He starts sketching the façade of the church and he is deep in his thoughts when he looks up at the church and sees a man walking in. there wouldn’t be anything special about that had not that man turned around and looked straight at Leo at the same time. Leo is stunned by the pale face looking at him.  
Leo feels an intense headache somewhere behind his eyes. The pain hits him so hard that he loses his breath. For a second he feels like he is having a stroke perhaps, but the headache disappears just as quickly as it came. He rubs his eyes and looks back towards the church but the man is no longer there.  
Leo tries to forget about the pain and turns to the records. He skips the shelf with the most recent records and goes towards the classical music. He chooses a violin concerto, puts the record on and tries not to think about the strange man.  
He closes a bit early that day and skips his usual drinks at the neighbourhood dive. He goes straight to his apartment instead. It is still raining but he doesn’t open his umbrella. Instead, he allows the raindrops to wash over him. The raindrops on his skin feel like the pizzicato on violin strings of that concerto he had listened to earlier. By the time he reaches the subway he is completely soaked through. The people look at him strangely but he does his best to ignore them.  
When he gets home he is greeted by Nico, his ginger cat. The cat is a perfect remedy for any pain, and he considers taking him to work in case the headache returns. Leo takes off the wet clothes and goes straight to bed, falling asleep listening to Nico purr.  
That evening he about Leonardo Da Vinci, again. He’s had dreams about the strange genius all his life, but this last dream was different. In the middle of a dream as he was following Leonardo through the streets of Rome, Leo hears a thunder, there must have been a thunderstorm outside while he was sleeping. The loud noise of the thunder brings back the headache in his dream. The pain then spread all though his body and he felt like he was being ripped limb from limb. The pain is too much and he can no longer focus on Da Vinci, the streets disappear, and all that is left is him, spread on cobbled street, writhing in agony, and through all this he hears a voice, soft as velvet whispering: “It is our choices that define us, you told me a long time ago, Artiste. It is still true today.”  
He wakes up on the floor, disoriented and with one of his arms tangled up in the sheets still on the bed. He counts his blessings. He just fell out of bed. The last time he woke up from his dream in the middle of stairs and lost his footing. The result was a couple of broken ribs and a stay at the hospital.  
After every such dream he feels that there will soon come a day when he can’t take it any more. When his past lives finally prove too much for him. The burden of all those memories, all those cities, all those lives and deaths is immense. As if sensing his pain and fear, Nico comes to Leo and rubs his head against Leo’s. Leo picks him up and scratches the cat behind the ear, “Nico, my faithful guardian.”  
All that morning Leo remembers the voice of his love from the dream. He feels the ache and the emptiness of being away from the count. He remembers all the unsuccessful attempts at getting Riario to remember, but he also knows that in each attempt, in each life, he has come one step closer to achieving his goal.  
“Maybe this life will be the one,” he says in hope.  
There is one thing that bothers him, however. With each life, he remembers less and less. With each life it takes him longer to realize what he is supposed to do.  
“What if one day I don’t remember?”


	2. 2

Another day, another walk through the park on his way to work. Leo’s routine is interrupted this day. His mind is still affected by the dream of Da Vinci. He sees patterns, designs all around him. Equations pop up as a leaf falls off a tree. He sees the forces and vectors. He calculated the speed and the resistance. He is unable to shake the numbers out of his head until he reaches the church.  
He stops in amazement at the large wooden gate of the church. There before him are the images from his own life carved into the dark wood. He recognizes Nicolo and Lorenzo and Zoroaster. He also recognizes his own face, and to the left of him, smaller that all the rest is Riario’s face.  
His fingers automatically go to the carving of Riario. He traces the lines and closing his eyes he remembers the feel of the real man beneath his fingertips. He smiles when he remembers Riario’s protests at such gentle touches. He can almost hear his voice say, “I’m not one of your models, Artista.”  
“Riario,” Leo whispers as he leans his forehead against the cold wood.  
“Yes?” Leo smiles at the reply and wishes with his whole heart that he was back in that old city and that his love was by his side.   
“Can I help you?” a familiar voice startles Leo from behind. Leo realizes that the “Yes” was real and not just in his head. He turns slowly, hoping, praying silently that he is not mistaken. When he sees the dark eyed man before him he is lost for words.  
“You said my name, and … I thought… perhaps you were looking for me,” Riario says shyly. “After all, it’s not that common of a name.”   
“No, not common at all. And… beautiful.” Leo says and when Riario smiles Leo is stunned for a second by just how beautiful the man before him is. Dreams and memories didn’t do him justice.  
“So, were you looking for me?”  
“I think so. This door is new.”  
Riario nods “Yes,” and blushes and it’s something new for Leo. He tries to remember if he had ever seen Riario blush in their past lives, and he can’t recall it ever happening.   
“It is beautiful. Such details. And the scenes… so life-like.”  
Riario just nods in silent agreement.  
“Are you working here?” Leo asks.  
“Restoring a painting inside.”  
“Wow, an artist. When did you start? I don’t remember seeing you around.”  
“Just yesterday. I still have a long 3 months ahead of me.”  
“Well if you ever want to take a break from your work, I’m just across the street, the record store. Come by and I’ll play you something…”   
“Thank you, I might just take you up on your offer. Restoration is rewarding work, but it can be tiresome sometimes.”  
“Good.” Leo says and turns to cross the street. He suddenly remembers, “Oh, my name is Leo, Leonardo, by the way.”  
“You know my name already,” Riario says with a smile. “Nice to meet you, Leo.”  
Leo spend the day doing mindless work, checking the records are in alphabetical order, dusting the sleeves in the display in the window, dusting the listening booths… but all the time, his mind wanders to the man across the street.  
As Leo starts is closing the record store that evening he notices Riario leaving the church at the same time. He waves at Riario and he crosses the street and comes into the store.   
“Hi,” Riario says accompanied by the tinkling sound of the bell above the door.  
“Hi! Done for the day?”  
“Yeah.”  
“You work long hours.”  
“Not really. I take a long break mid-day, two hours.”  
“Wow. Two hours for a lunch?”  
“Not really. Lunch is 20 minutes. The rest is for silent reflection.”  
“Prayer?“ Leo asks and Riario nods. “So, you’re religious?”  
“Yes, Roman Catholic.”  
“Were you raised a Catholic?” Leo asks remembering that in each life so far Riario wasn’t too far from the bosom of the Holy Mother the Church.  
“No, no I wasn’t. I was raised by my uncle, a strict atheist. Not really the father type, my uncle. But when I went to art school I was introduced to this whole new world of saints and martyrs and it just felt right. It was challenging at first, but it soon felt like I was returning to some life I had already lived. I read the Bible, and it didn’t feel like I was reading it for the first time. It felt like I knew it all already, but in a different language.” He stops his monologue to scratch his head. “Does that make sense?”  
Leo smiles at that. He remembers the battered Latin Bible Riario used to own and hide in his room in London in 17th century. He remembers Riario’s tirades against the practices of the Church of England. He also remembers their discussions on board the ship that brought them back from the Americas in their first life.  
“Why the smile?” Riario asks and Leo realizes he got lost in his memories.  
“Oh, nothing, it’s just that I too sometimes have that sense of déjà vu. For example looking at that door. It’s like I know the faces carved in that wood.” Leo sets the trap and waits to see what Riario would say.  
“Oh, the door…”  
“Yeah, it’s like the artist took the faces from my past and put them on there. For a moment I even thought I recognized myself there.”  
A frown appears on Riario’s face. He leans his head sideways and looks at Leo. His mouth opens slowly in surprise.  
“What?” Leo whispers the question.  
“Oh, it’s…” Riario shakes his head as if to clear some unwanted thought. “Since today is the first time I saw you, that is highly unlikely.”  
“What? You carved that door?” Leo asks, unable to hide his amazement.  
“Yeah.”  
“Breath-taking.” Leo smiles. “And you’re sure that’s not me? The face near the right edge?”  
“I know what face you mean, but it can’t be you, can it?”  
“No, of course not. But, I did see your face, to the left of me?”  
Again Riario blushes and Leo finds it endearing.  
“Yeah, a little bit of ego.”  
“And you’re right next to me. It’s like the universe is trying to tell you something,” Leo winks and Riario smiles.   
“Perhaps.”  
They stay there in quiet for a few moments and then Riario says goodbye. Leo greets him and watches him walk down the street. Leo smiles for himself, he’s found Riario, finally. Now he needs to consider his next steps very carefully.


	3. 3

Over the next couple of days Leo and Riario develop a new routine. At closing time, Riario joins Leo at the record store and they talk. Mostly about nothing, but each day Leo tries to insert a small hint of their past lives into their conversation. With each day Leo tries to come closer to Riario, tapping him on the shoulder one day, helping him put his jacket on the next, and going even so far as to trace the veins on the back of Riario’s hand one day.   
The Friday comes and Leo has an idea – he will invite Riario out with him that weekend. At lunchtime Leo turns the sign on the door to “Closed” and crosses the street to the church. He opens the door quietly and pokes his head inside. He sees Riario kneeling in a bench in the left nave. He tiptoes inside and sits two benches behind Riario and waits.   
As he waits for Riario to finish his prayer he studies the man. Riario is kneeling so still that he almost appears to be a statue. The black shirt stretching across his back and shoulders tightens with each breath he takes. Leo’s gaze travels lower, to Riario’s waist and he remembers the first time he’d ever put his hands on the naked skin there.   
Leo is lost in his memories when he hears Riario speak: “It’s not polite to stare, you know.”  
“Sorry, I didn’t want to disturb you,” Leo stutters and apologizes.  
Riario still doesn’t turn around, “You’re not disturbing me. Was there something you wanted?”  
“As a matter of fact yes. What are you doing this weekend?”  
“Saturday or Sunday?”  
“Saturday.”  
“Nothing. Did you have something in mind?”  
“Yeah. A night out. Hit a couple of clubs, hear some people sing… nothing much.”  
“That sounds like fun,” Riario says and offers Leo one of his rare smiles.  
“Do you want me to pick you up at your place?”  
“How about we meet at the fountain in the park?”  
This confuses Leo a bit, but he quickly adjusts his plans and agrees to this.  
“It’s just that it’s the easiest for me.”  
“Yeah, yeah. That’s OK. Meet there tomorrow at 8pm?”  
“Great.”  
Leo smiles and he allows himself to take a look around finally. He sees a large painting with scaffolding in front of it. “Is this what you’re restoring?” Leo points at the painting of the Madonna with the child Christ.  
“Yeah. You can see the state it’s in. It’s going to be a lot of work.”  
Lea takes a closer look and notices a couple of cracks along the canvas. He moves to the right side of the painting and notices a patch of what looks like fresh in the upper corner. He compares the hue of the paint there to the “old” areas and he can’t spot the difference. He is truly impressed by Riario’s skill.   
After a few more minutes of small talk Leo leaves Riario to his work and returns to his store.   
Leo spends the evening planning out the course of their date the following day. The general plan of attack is: start slowly and then go straight for the heart of the matter.  
* * * * *  
Saturday evening arrives and Leo is sitting by the fountain waiting for Riario to arrive. Riario is there on time but still apologizes to Leo for the wait. Leo smiles at this and they set off for the subway. Leo takes them to a small dark bar just a few stops from the park.   
As they approach the bar they can hear jazz music is playing and both Leo and Riario smile at this. Leo is happy to see that his choice of the bar was right.   
When they enter the bar they are greeted by the sight of people enjoying themselves. All of them are swaying slightly to the music. Leo and Riario find two seats at the bar and the waiter comes to take their order. Leo asks for a whiskey and Riario asks for a tonic water. Leo shakes his head in disapproval and changes the order to gin and tonic.   
“The goal of tonight is to let loose.”  
Riario starts to protest but the look on Leo’s face must have stopped him and he says, “Ok.”  
After their drinks arrive and they take a couple of sips, Leo takes a black cigarette box out of his jacket pocket, takes one out and offers some to Riario. Again, Riario starts to say no, but then changes his mind and takes one cigarette with a smile on his face. Leo lights Riario’s cigarette first and enjoys the feel of Riario’s hands against his as he cups the match. While Leo lights his own cigarette he can hear Riario whisper, “You’re impossible to say no to.”  
Leo smiles and takes the first long drag of the cigarette. He smiles at the pleasant mixture of tobacco and cannabis. Leo notices a surprised look on Riario’s face as he too tastes the extra ingredient. He looks up at Leo with an unasked question on his lips.  
“It’s a special tobacco I buy from a friend. He grows his own,” Leo answers.  
“It really is special,” Riario smiles and takes another drag, this time keeping it in his lungs for a while before exhaling. When Leo sees this practiced move he stops doubting if this was the right move.  
With each drag from the cigarette and each sip of the alcohol, both men are more relaxed. They talk at first, but as the buzz hits them they just sit there, facing the singer and listening to the music. When her set is over, the two men wake up from their trance and Riario is the first to speak, “She was amazing.”  
“Yeah. She often performs here.   
The juke box takes over and Leo and Riario turn away from the stage. They face each other and start talking. They talk about their childhoods, their families and their jobs. Leo talks about his love of music and Riario talks about the passion he has for the visual arts. As the night goes on they both feel the effects of both alcohol and cannabis more and more. Their tongues get twisted, their bodies move closer to each other, the topics of conversation get more private.  
Leo decides to take advantage of the situation to get on with his plan. “Do you ever feel like there’s more to life?” he asks Riario in a whisper.  
“More? After death you mean?”  
“Something like that.”  
“Perhaps. I don’t know. I mean… I believe, you know, heaven, hell and everything.”  
“What about past lives?”  
“Past lives? Reincarnation?”  
“Not sure. That is a bit too out there for me.”  
Leo decides to take a different route. “Riario, would you try something for me?”  
Riario stares straight into Leo’s eyes as if searching for something there, and then just nods in ascent.  
“Close your eyes.” Riario is hesitant for half a second and then does what Leo tells him. “Picture this: a renaissance mansion in Florence. A white stone staircase inside the mansion. The staircase is decorated with autumn leaves. There are rich red leaves, fruit hangs off the branches. You can hear music coming from the upper floor. You are standing on the first landing, your fingers caress the smooth stone of the balustrade. You have just followed a man to there. You see him holding a key and you ask him: ‘What do have there?’”   
Riario interrupts him before he can finish the question, “What do you see?”   
Leo smiles at this interruption and at the look of confusion on Riario’s face. “Have you ever crossed the ocean on a ship?”  
“No. I’ve never left US.” Riario replies, his words coming out slow and blurred.  
“Are you sure?” Leo whispers as he reaches out to hold Riario’s hand. “You can feel the waves crash against the hull of the ship. You can feel the floor beneath you disappear almost as we reach the crest of the wave and plunge deeper. You can hear the boards creak. You are not afraid. It is nothing compared to the storm you experienced during the first crossing. You have a fever and there is a hand there, placing a cold cloth on your head. You want him to leave, you want to be alone with your thoughts and your memories, but he never leaves your side. Even when you curse him and hit him so hard as to draw blood. You can feel his fingers brush the hair from your face, so softly it feels like feathers.” Leo stops there and gently brushes Riario’s hair from his face. He can see the man swaying as if in a trance. He longs to kiss him, to show him everything, but he knows it would be a mistake.   
“You hate the touch, you hate the man, you tell yourself, but you still lean into the touch, you still lean towards the man. It pains you to feel this gentleness so soon after the loss you’ve experienced, but you know him, and he knows you. You close your eyes and fall asleep resting your head in the palm of his hand.”  
Leo says the last words with barely a whisper and he can feel Riario lean into his touch.


	4. 4

Riario opens his eyes and a myriad emotions cross his face. He finally settles on anger. He begins to say something but then just gets up and storms out of the bar.  
“Here we go again,” Leo says just before finishing both his and Riario’s drink and ordering another one from the bartender.  
* * * * *  
The next couple of days Leo tries to catch Riario at the church but he is not there. He even starts coming to work earlier and staying at the store late into the night hoping to see Riario, but he never shows up.   
All this has Leo worried, could it be that he had scared Riario away? Was he being too forward?  
Leo decides to check with the priests at the church and their reply calms him down a bit. Apparently Riario has rang the parish and told them that he is ill and that he would be back to work as soon as he is feeling better.   
* * * * *  
It is another Friday, another day without seeing Riario. Every morning Leo still checks the church but still neither hide nor hair of Riario. The days drag by in an endless procession of customers. It is closing time and Leo changes the music playing from the record player. He usually plays the most recent records but he decides to put something that came out three years ago. It kind of fits his mood. He turns off the lights and puts the record on.  
The first couple of notes come and Leo closes his eyes. He takes a deep breath and a slight smile stretches the corner of his lips. Even a song as melancholy as this one has the power to make Leo smile. It has always been like this, and not just with music but with all art, and in all lives.   
He can still remember reading his favourite novels for the first time, reading an article about a new discovery in physics and engineering. Each new creation of humanity is a cause for happiness for Leo, and Simon and Garfunkel had made something very special.   
He sits on the floor, leaning his back against one of the shelves and starts humming the tune when he is interrupted by the chime of the bell above the door. He sees a slim figure silhouetted in the doorway. He starts to get up but Riario’s voice stops him; “No need to get up.”  
Leo smiles at him and is about to ask Riario how he is doing when Riario speaks: “What is this song?”  
“The Sound of Silence by Simon and Garfunkel.”  
Riario comes and sits next to Leo. Leo goes to the record player and sets the needle back to the beginning of the song. He takes his place next to Riario and they are quiet as the song plays. Leo can hear Riario breathe and he can almost feel a kind of electricity between their two bodies. He wants to come closer to say something but he knows that would be the wrong thing to do. He keeps still and quiet and lets Riario choose the course.   
When the song ends Riario whispers: “how did you know my name?”  
“Your name?” the question takes Leo by surprise. He was expecting something else, something that touched on the thing that happened in the bar.   
“Yes, that first day when we met, at the church door. You knew my name then. Who told you my name?”  
“Nobody. I’ve always known it.”  
“You’re talking in riddles. I want the truth.”  
“That is the truth. I’ve known your name for centuries. I’ve been looking for you over lives and continents.”  
“You must be smoking some really weird stuff to be saying things like that.”  
“So you remember nothing?” Leo asks perplexed. He didn’t expect that. Over the previous lives Riario has been remembering more and more things from their first life. Leo notices that Riario takes a very long time to answer this and Leo recognizes his late denial as a lie.   
“You do remember something, don’t you?” Leo insists.   
“How can I… how can anyone remember places they haven’t visited, lives they haven’t lived?”  
“Not anyone, only the two of us, Girolamo.” Leo intentionally pronounces Riario’s first name. The Italian r rolling off his tongue like a seductress. He can hear Riario gasp.   
“It is not possible. You can’t know me. It can’t be.”  
“It is, and I do know you. I know you better than you know yourself. And you know me, deep down inside you know me.”  
“If you know me so well, tell me then…”  
Leo turns to face Riario and interrupts him mid-sentence: “You are the most amazing rival I’ve ever had and the only true equal of mine. You are smart, vicious, and focused on your goals. Your ability to think strategically is greater than anyone else I’ve ever met. You are cunning and brave. You are strong as the storms that rage across the open seas and at the same time you are as gentle as a breeze that comes from the sea at dusk. You hate with all your heart and you love just as fiercely. You are the sword of the holy mother the Church and you are the beast that haunted the dark streets of Florence. You are a man who believed in me so much that he was willing to wager his life on a theory I had. You are a man who loved and lost his love in the shortest of times and in the cruellest of ways.” Leo has to stop here because his words bring tears to Riario’s eyes.  
Leo gently wipes away the tears that travel down Riario’s cheek. “You are my true friend, my partner, my love.” Leo moves forward and rests his forehead against Riario’s.


End file.
